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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25672681">Bernie Cares For a Sick Plant</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/consumeeven/pseuds/consumeeven'>consumeeven</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>my rp auditions [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack Treated Seriously, Gardens &amp; Gardening, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:42:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25672681</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/consumeeven/pseuds/consumeeven</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another audition-turned-oneshot of mine.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bernie and Mr Mint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>my rp auditions [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861501</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bernie Cares For a Sick Plant</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bernadetta walked into the greenhouse, holding something in her hands. It had taken a lot of effort to get herself out of her room today (there were such scary people around), but had heard from people outside her door that some plants in here weren't being cared for. She figured she couldn't let them die, so... For once, Bernie had braved a new environment—okay, they'd been at the monastery for about a month, so not <em>new</em>.</p><p>"Okay, Bernie..." The plants were looking worse for wear than any plant should have. When she was younger, she had played in the gardens pretty often, until her dad had... Anyways, she got closer to the plants to inspect them, noticing the ends of a mint plant were turning brown, and then black at the extremities. After looking around for a moment, she found a watering can and gently watered the plant. It didn't say thanks or anything. "Um, I hope you get well soon, little plant!"</p><p>Then Bernie noticed a knight walk into the greenhouse. She turned around and he—a large, imposing man—gave her a weird look. Bernie quickly set down the watering can, grabbed the object she'd walked in here with, and ran out, screaming an apology. Social interaction? <em>Not today!</em> Or ever...</p><p>She came back to check on that plant a few more times over the next two weeks. It didn't seem to be getting any better, and Bernie couldn't get her hands on much in the way of medicine, because she was pretty sure plants didn't really take medicine. Today was the last day before their class—The Black Eagles, a group of both familiar and new faces that were mostly intimidating—headed out on a mission. They'd be gone for several days, so Bernie needed to make sure this plant could do okay by itself until then.</p><p>"Mr. Mint?" That was the name she had given the little thing. Bernie kneeled down in front of the dirt he was planting in and touched a leaf. It crumbled away. The poor thing was dying, worse than before... Had her efforts not even slowed down its decay? Ugh, this was what she got for interacting with plants again! First her old commoner friend from the garden had been killed (and with him, many of the flowers he loved to water had died), and now this plant was perishing? Just her luck... And her fault.</p><p>The recluse inspected the object she held in her hand; She took it with her practically everywhere (so mostly her room).</p><p>"Mr. Mint... Um, I'm sorry. I think it's too late for you." Mr. Mint did not respond. He was a plant. That was okay, Bernie figured, because she didn't really want to hear his last words.</p><p>With a heavy heart, Bernie readied the gun she held in her hands and took aim.</p><p>"I am a plant lover, but..."</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>BANG</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Mr. Mint was gone. She knelt down next to the destroyed dirt bed he had been growing—dying—in and sobbed for a while, before dropping her gun and leaving. Bernie was never leaving her room again.</p>
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